


DDSR - The new route.

by Twixster



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Stuff happens, idk - Freeform, idk again, in the realms of the game, ish?, let's see where this goes, playing with the files of the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:46:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twixster/pseuds/Twixster
Summary: Monika's been through this time and time again. Nothing has changed. It keeps repeating itself over and over again, and no matter what Monika does the world she's in is just stuck in a loop.She's tried killing her friends.She's tried getting to the player.She's tried everything, except doing nothing.What happens if she just doesn't mess with anything? What happens if she goes along with the script?





	DDSR - The new route.

>console//PoV=Monika

>...

>Success.

>Booting in 5…

>4…

>3…

>2…

>1…

Here we were. The loading screen.

I felt myself echoing, repeating over and over. I couldn’t break free from the cycle.

Was I mad? Probably.

I couldn’t move or shift my eyes. My body, stuck in this humiliating pose, waiting for the player to start the game. His cursor wasn’t moving.

The OST playing right now just repeated again.  _Doki Doki!_  I hated it.

It was a screaming, dull void. Nothing was happy about this game. I saw the actions of the player. The only connection to the real world. My way out of this hell.

Except, well… The player could care less. Most of the time, I was left, destroyed, without a second thought. They deleted my files, either to get back the other three, or to get some form of an ending. I guess I deserved it.

The player clicked new game and begun typing the main character’s name.

How many names have I gone through?

People did stupid ones like ‘Booplesnoot’ or ‘FriendArin’. Other’s did real names like ‘Ethan’ or ‘Sean’. It didn’t matter to them. It was a game. Nothing was real.

I didn’t realize that this was a game until later on in my  _life._

It started with simple deja vu. I started to notice the slightest things repeat themselves, almost daily. Then I started to remember entire conversations, all of them repeating over and over.  _And over_. After a few months, I memorized the entire week that continued to loop. After the festival ended, well… back to square one. New name, new game.

One day I tried to talk to Sayori about it.

_”Hey, Sayori… Do you ever see, like… Conversations repeating themselves?”_

_”What do you mean, Monika?”_

_”Like, look right there! MC’s reading with Natsuki again, by the window!” I pointed towards one of the classroom windows. Natsuki and MC were reading manga._

_”Monika, are you okay?” I paused. Why didn’t she see it? Why was I the only one?_

_”You have to be joking right now, right Sayori? Please be joking.”_

_”Monika, you look pale. Can you sit down for me?” I sat down. “Thanks!”_

I tried talking to Yuri.

_”Yuri, do you see it?”_

_”What do you mean, Monika?”_

_”Natsuki and MC.”_

_”Monika, are you okay?” I paused._

_”Sayori said the same-”_

_”Monika, you look pale. Can you sit down for me? Thanks!” She turned away from me._

I walked away without saying anything. That was the day I realized everything was based off of a script. A nameless dialogue made to counter off of other’s actions. Maybe that line was put in by my creator, just to taunt me. Maybe I was meant to be this way just so he could see me suffer.

The next day, I tried this.

_”Look, there it is.” I told Sayori, initiating her line of dialogue._

_”What do you mean, Monika?”_

_”I’m gonna stab you, right now. I have a knife in my hands. Give me all your money.”_

_”Monika, are you okay?”_

_”I have a knife, Sayori. I’m going to kill you. Natsuki’s already dead, right over there. I stabbed her 37 times in the chest.”_

_”Monika, you look pale. Can you sit down for me?”_

_”No.”_

_”Thanks!”_

_”Fuck you, Sayori.”_

That’s my life. Where everything was on a loop, and no one could tell me why. Why we were in a game.

The player finally chose his stupid name.  _Jaako._  I had heard Jake a few times before, but never Jaako. How would you even pronounce that? Jah-ko? Jay-koh? I decided on Jah-ko.

Well, at least that meant he cared somewhat, I guess. I knew the player behind the screen didn’t really care when he chose a name like MC or Anon.

We moved out of the title screen. The music finally cut away, only to go into another track.

I found myself at school. Today was when Sayori and the player would walk to school together, which would then be where we’d be introduced.

I walked down some hallways into my room.

A special room, scripted for me. It wasn’t anything special. Just a dull, quote unquote  _’Japanese’_  classroom. The outside wasn’t created or mentioned in the script, so all that was there was dull, black space. Sure, it could be eerie, but I found it comforting in some odd way.

Random desks speckled the area. There was storage cabinets on the walls, where teachers would normally leave their school supplies. On one of the counters was a sink. When I settled in the only empty classroom, I figured this was a science class. Well, it’s not like we were really in school anyways.

I left myself basic survival items like a mini-fridge and a microwave plugged in at the corner of the room. Even if I wasn’t real, I still needed to eat. Was I the only one who ate regularly? Was I the only normal one here?

This was my home. The only place I found comfort in. It was sad, really. The script never mentioned me living in a house like Sayori and the player, so found myself here. I assumed Yuri and Natsuki just appeared and disappeared out of reality whenever they were mentioned. Either that, or they both have a house and I’m just fated to stay like this.

The worst nights were when I stayed here, up all night, thinking of life would be like as an actual person. A person with free will on my own decisions.

I grabbed a simple microwavable ramen noodle cup and started to fill it with water. I walked over to my microwave, placed the styrofoam cup inside and set it for 3 minutes.

Why was I still here? What purpose did I play? Why couldn’t I just delete myself from reality?

Well, I’ve noticed after some runs, if I do get deleted, that Sayori…  _goes crazy_... I don’t want anyone to have to live like I did. So here I stay, bearing this shitty  _’life’_  so the others can keep going..

While waiting for the ramen to cook, I walked over to my computer. Yeah, I had one of those. It was mentioned in the script that Sayori and I worked on a project online together, so I found this thing.

It was the standard computer. It had no brand. There weren’t any clever knock off, copyright avoidable brands in this world either.

I contemplated trying to mess with the characters folder of the game again. I’ve driven Sayori to suicide many times before. I don’t know why I kept doing it.

Now tell me, what’s the definition of insanity?

I really think that I’m insane. I feel like I was the only human one here, but I also felt like the  _least_  human. Did that make sense to you? I don’t know.

I’d have to go to the clubroom soon. The player’s day went by quick.

My microwave beeped. I stood up, grabbed the cup and started to eat.

Maybe this time, I wouldn’t mess with any files. Maybe I’d just leave it be. Change the possibilities. Break from the script.

Even if the player was the only way I could break free from the game, I felt like it’d be the same thing repeating over again. He’d kill me off and throw me out. Then another player would replace him.

What if I just become the player’s wingman this time? Play along with the script. It’d be like watching a cheesy romance movie. Maybe some form of change would be good for me.

I walked out of the room, and back to the literature club, leaving the script be.

 


End file.
